by Rebecca Foxx
“Why don’t we skip?” Clarke asked. “It’s not every day that we’re all back in the same town together. It might be kind of fun. Plus I’m going to be really busy all week with work. It would be nice to celebrate for once.”
“Agreed,” Tiffany said, though she’d been attending celebrations left and right since finishing college. It probably wouldn’t hurt to skip out on tonight. She’d just explain to her parents that she wanted to attend a party with Clarke. And why hadn’t she thought about what a good idea this was beforehand?
It’s my first chance to really be alone with Clarke, Tiffany thought to herself. Maybe if things go well, I’ll finally be able to tell him how I feel about him. After all, we did share that strange moment back at the brook. Plus he seems like he really wants to go. So why is my heart racing so much?
Clarke, on the other hand, was excited for the promise of the evening. He looked forward to partying with his old high school friends, but he was also excited to go out with Tiffany. It was an excuse to hang out with her without seeming too…creepy. It wasn’t that he was against having feelings for her, but his family definitely was. They would disagree if they ever found out, and it might cause a rift in their relationship. What good would that do?
Perhaps ill just keep it to myself, he thought. Things might be safer that way.
Tiffany texted her parents and explained to them that they wanted to go out with their friends. She kept her fingers crossed, hoping they would be okay with Tiffany and Clarke skipping out. It was true that Clarke would be busy pretty soon, and then Tiffany might never see him. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t have family dinners once in a while. Tiffany was scared, but she wanted Clarke all to herself. Hanging out with her parents would be embarrassing, especially because she hadn’t stopped blushing since she left the forest.
“Are you feeling okay?” Lily asked her on the way back to the house.
“I’m fine,” Tiffany responded. “I’m probably just dehydrated from walking around all day.”
“Do you want to stop at home first, to pick up some stuff?” Clarke asked.
“Sure,” she said. “Lily, we’ll meet back at your place when we’re done?”
Lily gave her two thumbs up before walking off in the opposite direction. The others waved goodbye to Tiffany and Clarke before following Lily.
When they got back to the house, they found it surprisingly empty. Tiffany hadn’t checked her phone since the forest, and when she did, she realized her mother had texted her back. She was going out on a date with Hunter and they were planning on watching the fireworks from one of the restaurants that overlooked the water.
“I guess they’re not home,” Tiffany said after reading.
“I guess not,” Clarke said slowly. “So do you want a glass of water?”
She nodded, hoisting herself up on the counter while she waited. Clarke’s shirt was tight and she could see his bones jutting out through the fabric. She longed to place her hand in the very center, so as to feel his lungs pumping in and out. When she was younger, her mother joked around that the space between your shoulder blades was where wings grew on angels. If she hoped hard enough, someday Tiffany would be able to grow a pair of her own wings.
When Clarke turned around, he noticed Tiffany staring at him. She averted her eyes, placing her attention instead on one of her cuticles. He walked slowly towards her and unwrapped her fingers and folded them around the glass.
Tiffany involuntarily parted her lips, as she often did when she was about to be kissed. But Clarke surely wouldn’t kiss her, right? He was standing so close, staring straight into her eyes. When she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, he leaned in close to kiss her; but they were interrupted. At that exact moment, they could hear the garage door opening and closing. Clarke stepped away quickly, and looked out at the backyard. Tiffany hopped off the counter, finished her glass of water, and walked promptly out of the room.
Chapter 5
Tiffany locked herself in the first floor bathroom and turned on the sink. She could hear her parents through the door—they’d forgotten her mother’s pocketbook—and they were now chatting up Clarke. She heard him clear his throat several times, a sign that he was nervous about what had just happened. Correction, what had almost happened between him and Tiffany. She felt her entire body was on fire, the opposite of how Clarke used to make her feel. Now that he’d managed to melt through all her icy layers, her body was like an inferno.
Once her parents were gone, Clarke walked over and knocked on the bathroom door. Tiffany pretended like she was in the middle of something, telling Clarke she’d be out in a minute, though it was quite obvious he was lying. She turned off the water, took a deep breath, and opened the door. Clarke was leaning against the doorframe, his hair falling in his eyes. She wanted to walk over, brush the hair out of his eyes, and bite his jaw until he turned pink and purple. Instead, she said,
“Ready?”
He nodded and they exited the house. It was still early out, and the sun spilled through the windows, covering everything in shadows and eggshells of light. Clarke told Tiffany it would be better that they walked to Lily’s, just in case anyone wanted to drink. He said he’d rescued too many people who had been crammed in cars after drunk driving accidents, and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing anyone to such a fatality.
As they walked, Clarke made small talk about the gold leaves in the forest verses the bright green leaves that lined the streets. Their house was located on a private driveway, and it was surrounded by other, enormous houses with expansive green lawns. It was a quiet area, which Tiffany had always loved. She enjoyed riding her bike in the middle of the night, the feel of fresh air and eternity whipping her hair around her face. Clarke, on the other hand, wasn’t used to the quiet.
The academy he’d spent time at had been full of rowdy teenage boys that grew into even rowdier grown men. They enjoyed partying and spending time at festivals—that is, when they weren’t working, or weren’t on call. When Clarke was on call, there was always the chance that he would be called in to treat anything from a forest fire to an oven fire.
On more than one occasion, he’d heeded house calls from mothers in tears over a pan filled with too much oil, whose flames lapped at the ceiling. Luckily for Clarke, he’d never had to deal with anything too intense. Everyone had always been okay, for the most part. There was the car accident, and another time he saw the bones of an animal that had been caught in the forest fire, but nothing too serious had happened. Things with Tiffany were heating up, and that was the first time in his life that he felt something serious happening.
There had been girls in the past, sure. But there had always been Tiffany. Tiffany with her outrageous curves and golden hair, Tiffany staring at him whenever she thought he wasn’t looking. Tiffany most certainly felt the way Clarke did, but what to do about it? All would be answered at the party that evening.
When they arrived at Lily’s, they found there were already dozens of cars parked in the driveway, and along the sidewalk. Lily’s house was built more as a bungalow than anything, which tended to confuse the locals during wintertime.
The inside of the house as always decorated like Florida, and all the walls had been painted bright blue since before Tiffany and Clarke were in diapers. Lily’s parents had French doors everywhere, even in the living room, and there was no room that was off limits. For the party, she’d purchased a handful of blowup palm trees, confetti, and bright green tinsel. The inside looked like a high school party that had been decorated by a drunken cheerleader, but Tiffany found it endearing. It definitely didn’t resemble the outside world, which meant she could easily escape into this false lifestyle.
“This is spectacular,” Clarke said.
“You’re joking, right?” Tiffany asked, nudging him in the stomach.
“Well, slightly. I do admire the fact that she tried,” he said. “A for effort?”
Tiffany giggled. Lily walked over to them, two Coronas in her
hands.
“Hey!” she shouted over the music. She had placed a Beach Boys CD on, and the speakers were out of control. Outside, Tiffany spotted a pool the shape of a kidney. That was a new addition to the house. Perhaps she’d go swimming later—it had been so long since she’d gotten her feet wet in anything but a shower.
“Hey back,” Clarke shouted.
“I’m happy you two made it! Clarke, it’s been so long. What have you been up to?” she asked, squeezing one of his muscles. “I see firefighting has done you well,” she cooed.
Tiffany didn’t want to act jealous, so she proceeded to take swigs of her beer. But Lily just didn’t know when to quit. She continued to butter Clarke up with compliments, telling him he looked handsome in his shirt, but would look ten times better in his firefighter uniform.
“I, uh, thank you Lily,” he said, clearing his throat.
Tiffany wasn’t sure if he was being awkward because of her, or if it was because he’d always been that way around women. But that couldn’t possibly be true—when they were younger, the girls had been all over him and he’d loved the spotlight. She decided she’d had enough of Lila. Finishing off her beer, she told Clarke and Lily she’d be back, and exited the room.
The rest of the house was just as bright, but the green tinsel only stretched so far. In the bathroom was a large paper sun that someone had cut out and taped to the mirror. Tiffany continued on to the second, and third floor, where Lily’s room was. The third floor was mostly empty, and Lily slept in the guest room when she visited home. The bed had a light purple quilt on it; the kind Tiffany’s grandmother would have sewn. She sat on the bed for a few seconds, examining her surroundings. If it weren’t for the light knock on the door, she would have never noticed Clarke standing there.
Chapter 6
“You scared the shit out of me,” Tiffany said.
“I’m sorry, I tend to do that,” he replied. “So what are you doing up here, all by yourself?”
Tiffany rolled her eyes. “I was just trying to get away from it all,” she said, waving her arm around.
“Away from me, or Lily?”
“Both?” she said. It had only been one beer, but she was definitely slightly buzzed. Clarke had already drunk his, and was on his second.
He entered the room and closed the door behind him.
“What are you doing?” Tiffany asked, though she already knew the answer. Clarke didn’t respond. Instead, he walked over to her and cupped her face in his hands.
“This,” he said, planting a kiss on her mouth. Tiffany felt her breath being taken away as Clarke’s soft lips met hers. He smelled like aftershave and beer, and tasted like vanilla.
Placing a hand on her back, he coaxed her onto the bed. Clarke straddled her, and took Tiffany’s wrists in his hands.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he breathed into her ear.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered. “What if someone walks in?”
“I don’t care anymore,” he said, swooping down for another mind-melting kiss. Tiffany shed her inhibitions and her clothes. She tore off Clarke’s shirt and threw it on one of the lamps, which oddly enough, was shaped like a seashell.
Clarke bit her nipples and left a tail of hickeys from her left breast to her neck. She secretly thanked herself for keeping her hair so long; otherwise, it would be hell hiding that from her parents.
When Clarke entered her, she didn’t feel nervous or scared. Their bodies fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. The puzzle itself was of a house burning down in flames, with Clarke and Tiffany’s bodies setting the fire. He would put anyone to shame with how intense he pumped in and out of her. She vowed to never have sex with anyone else ever again—this was it, this was all she’d ever needed.
“I think I’m in love with you,” she whispered in his ear.
He grinned and bit her lower lip. “I feel the same,” he crooned into her neck. Suddenly, there were footsteps on the landing. Someone was fiddling with the knob, but Clarke had locked the door and they couldn’t get it.
“Um, hello? This is like, my room?” They heard Lily shouting.
“Oh shit,” Clarke said. “What do we do?”
“Are you close to being done?” she asked.
“Barely,” he breathed and she felt her breath hitch in her throat.
“I’ll hide—I’ll hide in the closet,” she said.
“Okay,” he said, standing up and throwing his clothes on. Lily was still pounding on the other side of the door. Tiffany grabbed her shirt and leapt into the closet, and at that exact moment, Lily unlocked the door.
She took one look at the half-naked Clarke, licked her lips, and jumped into his arms. Tiffany had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming out. She could hear Clarke protesting, but it wouldn’t do any good. Lily didn’t seem to want to step down from his arms. Tiffany couldn’t bear the thought of hiding in the closet while they made love to each other. She’d cut off her ears to avoid hearing their cries of passion. But to her surprise, the begging and whispering stopped. The next thing she knew, Lily was sliding out of Clarke’s arms before stalking out the room and slamming the door.
Chapter 7
Clarke walked over to the closet and opened the door.
“She’s gone,” he said sheepishly.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said.
“Yes, I did. Come on, we should probably head home now. Lily’s bound to be pissed; she’s probably on the warpath right now, trying to figure out what he other girl is that I’m supposed to be having sex with.”
Tiffany laughed and nodded. It was probably best if they left the house. On their way down the stairs, Tiffany fiddled with her hair. She made sure it was covering her neck and breast, which had turned dark red from Clarke’s bites.
They stumbled across Lily, who glared at Clarke and tugged Tiffany aside.
“Do you know who it is?” she asked.
“Um, who are we talking about?” Tiffany responded, playing the innocent.
“Duh! The girl Clarke’s supposedly seeing.”
“No, I have no idea,” she said. Clarke had told her she was seeing someone? No wonder she was so angry and left the room in a huff. Tiffany had almost forgotten her friend had been crazy about Clarke since high school. She figured Lily had gotten over it—it was just a stupid high school crush, after all. If that were true, then what did that make Tiffany? Was she foolish for having feelings for Clarke as well?
They exited the bungalow and stepped out into the breezy, night air. There was still a chance their parents weren’t home yet—perhaps they could pick up where they left off. On the walk home, Clarke took Tiffany’s hand in his.
“It’s okay,” he said when she began to protest. “It’s dark out—no one will recognize us.”
“I don’t get it,” she said.
“Don’t get what?”
“Why do you want me? After all these years, I thought we were just…”
“Friends?” he said, finishing her sentence.
“Yeah.”
“Well, the truth is I’ve always had feelings for you. I just couldn’t act on them because, you know. I guess sour parents were what were holding me back. But I don’t feel like holding back anymore. I have no idea what we’re going to tell them, but if you’d have me, I’d love to be yours. I’m planning on moving out this week to a place I found on the other side of Colorado, somewhere deep in Boulder. Do you think you’d want to come with me?”
“What? Are you asking me to run away with you?”
“Something like that,” he said, his eyes shining in the moonlight.
Tiffany nodded. “Okay,” she said.
Clarke felt his face spread into a grin. As they neared the house, they saw the garage was still empty. He dragged Tiffany by her hand up the front steps and into the house. All the lights were off—they were submerged in darkness. Clarke hesitated a moment longer before dragging her up the stairs and into his bedroom.
He threw her on the bed and climbed on top.
Tiffany’s hands were already in his hair, on his chest, and down his pants. They picked up right where they left off, rocking hard against each other in the darkness. His blinds were closes, but she could still see moonlight filtering in. She hadn’t even noticed their parents were home until they heard them walking up the stairs.
“Oh shit,” Tiffany said. “What do we do now?”
“Clarke?” she heard Hunter call out. “Are you here, my boy?”
“Just a second,” Clarke responded.
“You know how your mother feels about you having girls in the room,” he said. “You two should probably get out of here, pick this up somewhere else.”
“But dad—“
